That couldn’t have actually happened.
She talked, pretending she hadn’t just remembered what she thought she did. “What’s with him lately anyway? Mr. Grumpy. I don’t think he likes Brett. That’s terrible, because when we’re married I want you two to come over all the time. And he has to be my best man at the wedding.”
“I think Brett gets to pick the best man.”
“Okay, Paul can give me away.”
“I don’t think Paul wants to give you away.” Pinky gave her a look.
“Oh fine, be difficult.”
“No, I mean, I don’t think Paul wants to give you away . Do you understand?”
“No, I don’t understand,” Patricia snapped, but she did, and it was scaring the crap out of her. “Call me stupid.”
Pinky rolled her eyes. “Okay, stupid, I think Paulie might be having feelings about you.”
Patricia looked sharply at her friend. Should she tell her? Should she confess? Was it all a dream? She drank more tea. “We’re all just friends,” she said firmly. “That’s not going to change. We have housemates rules, and, well, Paul is just attracted to blondes.”
Patricia thought hard for a minute. Her head throbbed. Should she tell her best friend what happened?
“Although…” she said slowly.
“Although what ?” Pinky leaned closer.
“I have something to tell you.” Patricia paused. Maybe she’d try the grandma’s-on-the-roof method. “Paul kissed me last night.”
“He came to your room?”
“I think he was just checking on me.” She set her tea down carefully and eyed her friend.
Pinky sat back with a smug look on her face. She crossed her arms. “You are the worst liar in the entire world, Patricia Stillwell. Don’t even try.”
Patricia swooned against the couch cushions like a true drama queen. “Oh holy shit, Pinky, unless I was having the hottest dream of my life, Paul and I made love last night.”
“You what ?”
“You heard what I said, don’t make me say it again.”
“Oh my God. I mean, I knew he had feelings for you, and I knew he was going crazy with you chasing Brett and all, but how did you…how did he? What were you thinking?” Pinky had her hands on her cheeks like the screaming man in the art museum.
Patricia was shaking. Her hands were trembling. “Look. We just had a moment. We reached out in the darkness and there was the other one, and it was just so amazing that we didn’t stop.”
“Did you use any birth control?”
Patricia didn’t answer, she just covered her face with her hands.
“Right under my nose.” Pinky shook her head.
“It’s a little complicated, but I’m sure we are both adults and we can just talk it over and it will be fine.”
Pinky leaned over to her friend and put her hand on her knee. She talked very quietly and had a slow smile on her face.
“Was it incredible?”
“I woke up and I couldn’t remember whether I’d had the best dream of my entire life or the best sex ever,” Patricia answered, sliding her hands off her face.
“So you think you can just, oh, shake it off and get back to normal?” Pinky shrugged.
“Hell, I don’t know. I’m not his type in real life. He was probably just starved for sexual attention.”
“What type, intelligent, funny, and talented?”
“Blonde and bouncy.”
“Have you looked in the mirror lately?”
“Oh shit.” Patricia had forgotten she was now blonde and bouncy. Whenever she woke up, she had to relearn her whole face and hair and all other parts that used to be brown and familiar. “You don’t suppose he’s fallen in lovewith me now that I’m blonde? That’s kind of twisted.”
“I’m starting to wonder.”
Patricia waved her off. “I can’t even deal with Paul. I have Brett to figure out.”
“You can’t be serious. You aren’t going to go ahead and keep dating Brett after last night, are you?”
“Well, why not? It was just a momentary, crazy thing. We both probably regret it and, well, lots of women have taken a step backward
She talked, pretending she hadn’t just remembered what she thought she did. “What’s with him lately anyway? Mr. Grumpy. I don’t think he likes Brett. That’s terrible, because when we’re married I want you two to come over all the time. And he has to be my best man at the wedding.”
“I think Brett gets to pick the best man.”
“Okay, Paul can give me away.”
“I don’t think Paul wants to give you away.” Pinky gave her a look.
“Oh fine, be difficult.”
“No, I mean, I don’t think Paul wants to give you away . Do you understand?”
“No, I don’t understand,” Patricia snapped, but she did, and it was scaring the crap out of her. “Call me stupid.”
Pinky rolled her eyes. “Okay, stupid, I think Paulie might be having feelings about you.”
Patricia looked sharply at her friend. Should she tell her? Should she confess? Was it all a dream? She drank more tea. “We’re all just friends,” she said firmly. “That’s not going to change. We have housemates rules, and, well, Paul is just attracted to blondes.”
Patricia thought hard for a minute. Her head throbbed. Should she tell her best friend what happened?
“Although…” she said slowly.
“Although what ?” Pinky leaned closer.
“I have something to tell you.” Patricia paused. Maybe she’d try the grandma’s-on-the-roof method. “Paul kissed me last night.”
“He came to your room?”
“I think he was just checking on me.” She set her tea down carefully and eyed her friend.
Pinky sat back with a smug look on her face. She crossed her arms. “You are the worst liar in the entire world, Patricia Stillwell. Don’t even try.”
Patricia swooned against the couch cushions like a true drama queen. “Oh holy shit, Pinky, unless I was having the hottest dream of my life, Paul and I made love last night.”
“You what ?”
“You heard what I said, don’t make me say it again.”
“Oh my God. I mean, I knew he had feelings for you, and I knew he was going crazy with you chasing Brett and all, but how did you…how did he? What were you thinking?” Pinky had her hands on her cheeks like the screaming man in the art museum.
Patricia was shaking. Her hands were trembling. “Look. We just had a moment. We reached out in the darkness and there was the other one, and it was just so amazing that we didn’t stop.”
“Did you use any birth control?”
Patricia didn’t answer, she just covered her face with her hands.
“Right under my nose.” Pinky shook her head.
“It’s a little complicated, but I’m sure we are both adults and we can just talk it over and it will be fine.”
Pinky leaned over to her friend and put her hand on her knee. She talked very quietly and had a slow smile on her face.
“Was it incredible?”
“I woke up and I couldn’t remember whether I’d had the best dream of my entire life or the best sex ever,” Patricia answered, sliding her hands off her face.
“So you think you can just, oh, shake it off and get back to normal?” Pinky shrugged.
“Hell, I don’t know. I’m not his type in real life. He was probably just starved for sexual attention.”
“What type, intelligent, funny, and talented?”
“Blonde and bouncy.”
“Have you looked in the mirror lately?”
“Oh shit.” Patricia had forgotten she was now blonde and bouncy. Whenever she woke up, she had to relearn her whole face and hair and all other parts that used to be brown and familiar. “You don’t suppose he’s fallen in lovewith me now that I’m blonde? That’s kind of twisted.”
“I’m starting to wonder.”
Patricia waved her off. “I can’t even deal with Paul. I have Brett to figure out.”
“You can’t be serious. You aren’t going to go ahead and keep dating Brett after last night, are you?”
“Well, why not? It was just a momentary, crazy thing. We both probably regret it and, well, lots of women have taken a step backward
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